Leeches
by laynee
Summary: Sam is left with Bobby while Dean and John go on a hunt for werewolves. Sam makes a new friend down the road. The Winchesters should know how quickly things can change when danger isn't where it's expected. Hurt!Sam age 9, Dean age 13
1. Left Behind

I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Bobby or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.

I had been wanting to write a new Supernatural story for a while, and that's actually what I intended 'Far From Home' to be, but 'Far From Home' ended up being a Robin and Batman story. So I had been working on plot points for the Winchesters and it finally gelled together.

Sam is an adorable 9 year old kid and Dean is an awesome 13.

-ff-

"Are you sure I can't come with?" Sam met his dad's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"This one is dangerous, Sammy."

"What about Dean? Isn't it dangerous for him?"

John sighed. "Yes, but Dean will be staying back where it's safer. He won't be in the first wave of attack. Summer is the safest time because the nights are shorter." He smiled at Sam. "Besides, Uncle Bobby needs your help."

Dean turned in the seat to look at Sam. "Don't tell him I said this, but Uncle Bobby is damn near helpless right now. He's also probably more dangerous that a whole pack of werewolves on his own."

Sam shrugged. "I just don't like when you leave."

"Me neither, but we got a job to do." Dean winked. "I'll be okay. Caleb will be there, too. It will be easy, we won't be gone longer than a week. Two at the most. Okay?"

"Okay."

Dean reached his hand back to shake on it and Sam grabbed his hand.

They pulled into Bobby's driveway just before it got dark. Bobby came out on the porch when he heard the Impala on the gravel. A white cast went up his right arm from wrist to shoulder. Sam and Dean were out of the car almost before it stopped. They ran towards Bobby.

"Christ, Bobby. You really broke it this time." Dean whistled.

"Just 'cause you're thirteen, boy, don't mean I can't beat your backside."

Dean only smirked.

Sam hung on the railing. "Does your arm hurt, Uncle Bobby?"

"It's fine." He smiled down at the littlest Winchester.

Dean had hit a bit of a growth spurt and Sam had yet to catch up. He was still just a scrawny kid with a mop of dark hair and big eyes. Bobby wasn't fond of too many kids, but there was something about Sam and Dean that he liked, not that he would ever admit that.

"Boys, help with the bags." John called from the car.

Sam and Dean took off running towards the car, an automatic race. Dean won, but he had the advantage of being a good handful of inches taller than his brother. John sent the boys into the house and stood on the porch next to Bobby.

Bobby looked over at him. "Think Dean's ready for werewolves?"

"Me and Caleb will be there." John sighed. "It's a small pack, three or four. For now. Should be done and back in a little less than two weeks."

"Why not take Sammy?"

"He'd just have to stay in the car, and it's an overnight hunt at least. Dean's been asking about werewolves ever since that hunt in Wyoming." He looked out over the dark yard.

"Kid's gonna miss you."

John smirked. "Tell me you couldn't use the extra hand around here, at least until you get that cast off."

"Shut it, Winchester." Bobby stalked into the house.

John gave Bobby a few minutes before he went inside. Sam and Dean were sitting at the kitchen table. Dean was dealing out hands of what looked like Blackjack.

"Okay, Sammy. All you gotta do is get twenty-one points before I do. Understand?"

"Yeah." Sam looked down at his cards. "Hit me."

"Boys." John stood in the doorway.

Dean stopped, about to deal a card and looked over. He tried to look innocent, but Sam had always been much better at that.

"We're playing Go Fish." Dean supplied.

Bobby chuckled from somewhere behind John.

"Time to get ready for bed. Dean, I want us on the road by six."

Dean made a face at the time, six was almost painfully early. Sam didn't move from the table, he didn't want them to go.

Dean stood and pulled Sam to his feet. "Come on, Sammy."

Sam looked back at John as he was pulled from the room. For a moment, John almost wished he could take Sam with them, just so he wouldn't have to look at the boy as they left, but werewolves were too dangerous for a nine-year-old. They were probably a bit too advanced for a thirteen-year-old, but Dean wasn't any kid.

John and Bobby sat at the kitchen table with a couple beer bottles between them. Bobby rested his casted arm on the table and sighed.

"When does that come off?" John took a drink.

He took a long pull from the bottle. "A few weeks. Too damn long." He leaned back in the chair. "I'd pry the damn thing off myself, but the doc would probably kill me."

There was a muted thump from upstairs and then giggling.

"Suppose I'd better go see what trouble those two are in." He stood. "You sure you don't mind Sammy staying here?"

"You three are always welcome here. Me and Sammy will be fine."

When John got upstairs he found Sam in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He was in a ratty tee shirt of Dean's and shorts.

"What are you boys up to?"

Sam turned with a guilty smile, his toothbrush still in his mouth. "Nufing." He mumbled over the toothpaste.

Dean appeared behind John. "Hey, Dad."

"What were you doing?"

"Just making the beds." His oldest was nothing but charm.

"Uh huh." John looked back to Sam. "In making the beds there wasn't a brief pillow fight, then. Cause that's what it sounded like from downstairs."

Sam giggled again.

"Finish up, Sammy. Get to bed."

Sam spit out his toothpaste and ran his toothbrush under the water. He smiled as he ducked out of the bathroom and ran down the hall to the bedroom he would share with Dean.

John followed behind and saw Sam jump into the bed and pull the sheet up. The windows were open to catch any of the cooler summer breeze. Dean came in a few minutes later and climbed into the other bed. He stretched out and braced one arm under his head.

"Dad, we're really getting up before six?"

"You know the answer to that." He turned off the lamp. He rested his hand on Dean's head and then brushed Sam's hair back. "Goodnight, boys."

"Night dad." Dean muttered.

"G'night, Dad." Sam echoed and rolled over, the sheet already tangled around him.

John paused in the doorway to look in at his boys before he went back downstairs to join Bobby over the beers they hadn't yet finished.

Bobby and John moved the discussion out to the porch. They sat on the steps and drank from beer bottles that were slick with condensation.

"We'll be back in two weeks at the most." John said after a bit. "We'll call when we get there, and then whenever we can after."

"I know." Bobby glanced over at John. He could tell John didn't really want to leave Sam behind, but it was safest.

"Sam will be all right."

"Yep."

John sighed and finished his beer. "I guess I should get some sleep, gonna be up too damn early tomorrow." He stood and held a hand out to help Bobby up.

Bobby accepted the help and got to his feet. The two went inside and John went up to get ready for bed.

-sn-

Morning came fast and early. When John went in to wake Dean up, he found that Sam had crawled into bed with his brother.

John shook Dean's shoulder. "Dean, sport, time to get up."

Dean buried his face in the pillow, but didn't move otherwise.

"Dean. Let's go."

He looked up. "Dad."

"Five minutes, downstairs." He left the room.

Dean sat up and carefully climbed out of bed so he wouldn't wake Sam. He got about a foot from the bed when he heard the rustle of the sheets.

"Dean?" Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes.

Dean smiled, Sam had done that nearly every morning since he was born. "Go back to sleep."

"Are you leaving?"

He pulled on jeans and a tee shirt. "Soon."

Sam pushed the sheet back and climbed out of bed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He shrugged. Sam stood there while Dean pulled on his shoes and shoved stuff into his bag. Sam followed Dean downstairs and into the kitchen where John and Bobby were sitting with cups of coffee in their hands.

"You ready, Dean?" John stood.

Dean nodded and felt Sam take hold of the back of his shirt.

"Let's head out. We have to meet Caleb by noon." John rinsed out his coffee mug in the sink.

Bobby stood as well. "What about breakfast?"

John rested his hand on Sam's head. "We'll grab something on the way." He knelt down and met Sam's eyes. "Me and Dean are going to be back soon. Okay? You take care of Bobby and stay out of trouble."

Sam nodded and swallowed.

"I know you will." John winked. "We'll be back before you know it."

John picked up Dean's bag and carried it out to the car. Sam followed Dean without saying a word. The morning air was cool and the sun was about to rise. Dew made the boards of the porch damp under Sam's bare feet.

Dean stopped at the top of the porch steps and turned to his brother. "I'm gonna call every chance I get, Sammy. Don't worry, we're gonna be fine."

"I know." Sam whispered.

Dean winked and Sam wrapped his arms around his brother's chest.

"Come on, kiddo, I have to head out."

"Please don't get hurt." Sam muttered against Dean's shirt. "And make sure dad doesn't either."

Dean pried his brother's arms open and smiled. "Nothing to worry about, Sammy. Promise."

He turned and went down to the car. Sam stayed on the top step and watched his brother and dad pull out of the driveway. He didn't move as the car turned onto the road and he didn't move even after the car was gone from sight.

Bobby rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Let's get some breakfast."

Sam shook his head.

"Sammy, you can't stand here until they get back. They're gonna be fine." He guided the boy back into the house.

Sam looked back once at the road before allowed himself to be ushered back inside.

-sn-

note: This was difficult to start for some reason, it didn't seem to flow well. But it's done and the next chapters should go a little easier. Also, I've been told I have a tendency to write John a little "too nice", but I sorta like it and I also sorta think that when the boys were younger, he was sometimes "too nice". Anyway, thank you so much for reading.


	2. Meeting

I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Bobby or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.

I had been wanting to write a new Supernatural story for a while, and that's actually what I intended 'Far From Home' to be, but 'Far From Home' ended up being a Robin and Batman story. So I had been working on plot points for the Winchesters and it finally gelled together.

Sam is an adorable 9 year old kid and Dean is an awesome 13.

-ff-

Bobby looked up from the book he was reading to brush up his Latin. He noted it was nearing lunchtime and figured Sam would probably be hungry since he didn't eat much for breakfast. Speaking of Sam, Bobby hadn't heard from him in a while either. He pushed himself to his feet and winced as it tweaked his arm a little.

"Sam?" Bobby went to the living room, but there was no sign of him. "Sammy?"

Sam was sitting on the top step of the porch, his eyes fixed on the road. Bobby sighed and sat down next to the boy.

"Kid, you can't sit here until they come back."

Sam didn't answer or even acknowledge that Bobby was at his side.

"Sammy."

He sniffed, his jaw set hard so he wouldn't cry. "I always gotta stay behind, and something bad always happens when I do."

"They're going to be fine."

Sam held up one finger. "The poltergeist in Montana, Dean sprained his ankle." He held up another finger. "The thing in Wyoming, when dad hit his head and hurt his ribs." He held up a third finger. "The time they left me with Pastor Jim and couldn't come back for two extra days cause dad was in the hospital and Dean had a black eye." He sighed. "And they did it again."

Bobby could hardly argue with that logic. "Sammy, your dad and your brother know what they're getting into. Besides, Caleb is there to help. I bet Dean doesn't even get a chance to use that new gun he has."

Sam wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin on his hands.

"How about we get some lunch?"

"Not hungry."

"How about you eat anyway. You sorta skipped breakfast, Sammy. You making yourself sick over worrying about them won't help anything." He rested his hand on the boy's shoulders. "Grilled cheese?"

Sam didn't move.

"You know, I think I saw a bike about your size out back. How about after some lunch, we see about making it road worthy."

He turned to Bobby. "Are you bribing me?"

"Would it get you to eat lunch?"

"Maybe." He almost smiled.

"Maybe. Jesus, you Winchesters are going to be the end of me." He stood and thought that Dean might be having just a bit more influence on Sam than John realized.

Sam followed Bobby inside and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Uncle Bobby, do you want some help?"

Bobby glanced back from the skillet. "Nope. Contrary to what you've heard, I am able to take care of myself. Had busted arms before."

Sam got up and took plates and cups down from the cupboards. He set the table without being asked.

"Thanks, Sammy." Bobby smiled.

"Sure." He rested one elbow on the table and braced his chin in his palm.

"Are you going to be this unhappy the entire time?"

Sam shrugged.

"Sammy." Bobby put a handful of carrots and a grilled cheese sandwich on Sam's plate. "Come on, kid. It's only gonna be a week, maybe a little more."

"I know." He took a small bite of the sandwich. "What color is the bike?"

Bobby smiled.

Dean had taught Sam to ride a bike when he was six, but Sam didn't get to ride a bike as often as he wanted. Sometimes he could borrow a friend's bike when they were in a town, but he wanted one of his own. Like a normal kid. Like the friends he made and then had to leave. The idea of a bike at Bobby's sounded like the best deal Sam would ever get, bike-wise.

Sam ate all of his lunch, which made Bobby happy and after lunch they went out back to find the bike, which made Sam happy. It was a red bike that was almost too big for Sam, but he didn't care. Sam and Bobby spent the better part of an hour scrubbing it clean. Sam took a step back to admire the way the sun glinted off the handlebars.

Bobby tossed his rag to the side. "Pretty sure this bike is nearly older than me, but it works."

"It's great."

It was the first time Bobby had seen Sam smile. Sometimes bribery was worth it.

"Gotta get something." Sam ran to the house.

Before Bobby could get to wondering where the boy had gone, Sam came running back out and jumped down the steps of the back porch. He knelt down and used a clothespin to attach a baseball card by the back tire.

"You gonna want that card later?"

"Nope. Got two of them. Danny, a few towns back, had this on his bike. It sounded like a jet plane." Sam climbed on, the toes of his shoes just barely touched the dirt. "Do I have to stay in the yard?"

"You can probably handle going down the road a bit. There ain't much for traffic. Just stay where you can see this place."

Sam pushed of, wavered for a second and then stabilized. He headed for the driveway and then turned back around. He skidded to a stop next to Bobby.

"Uncle Bobby?"

He met Sam's eyes.

"Thanks for the bike."

"Any time, Sammy." He smiled. "I'll be inside if you need anything. Be home long before it gets dark or you won't be on that bike again."

Sam smiled, he didn't really believe Bobby when he tried to pretend he was stern and gruff. "Yes, sir." He pedaled through the yard and got to the front of the house.

He paused at the end of the driveway and looked down both directions of the road. Finally he decided to turn right and headed down that way. He stood up on the pedals and biked as fast as he could. He liked the way the wind pushed through his hair, the hum of the gravel under his tires and the clicking of the baseball card between the spokes. He glanced behind him and saw a small cloud of dust.

Sam passed a driveway to a farmhouse that looked like it could use a fresh coat of paint. He was almost past the house when he hit the breaks. He skidded and planted his foot down to keep the bike under control.

A girl sat on a swing that hung from an ancient oak tree. She was pale, like she had spent a long time sick or inside. Her blond hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail that she had clearly done herself. She smiled at Sam.

"Hi." Her voice was so quiet, it was almost lost in the ten feet from her to Sam.

"Hi."

"Did you just move here?" Her heavy southern accent was hard to miss.

Sam shook his head. "Just staying for a week. What about you?"

"My daddy and me moved from Louisiana." She sighed as thought it was taking a lot of her energy to keep talking to Sam. "I like your bike."

"Wanna try it? 

She shook her head. "I can't. I got real sick and I can't do much."

Sam wheeled his bike over near the ditch and sat on the edge of the road.

"What's your name?" Her blue eyes were clear and wide.

"Sam."

She smiled. "I'm Chloe. Your daddy work around here?"

"No. He works a lot of places. We move a lot." It was easy to talk to Chloe.

She nodded like she understood. "My daddy works in the hospital. But he's not a doctor, he works down in the morgue." She smiled a little. "Some people think it's scary."

"It's not." Sam shrugged. "It's just people." He had already seen some things that were much more scary than a morgue. He'd seen a morgue, too.

She smiled, and for a moment didn't look sick. "Wanna come in for some lemonade?"

"I can't. I'm not supposed to go over to people's houses until my dad says it's okay."

"Chloe." A man called from the porch of the house. "Time to come inside."

She slowly got up from the swing and wavered for a moment. Sam jumped to his feet and took her arm so she wouldn't fall. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath.

"Stood up too fast." She muttered. "Thanks, Sam."

He smiled.

Chloe's dad came over and picked up his daughter. "Thank you." He extended his hand. "Name's Dale." He had the same, deep southern accent as Chloe.

Sam shook his hand. "Sam."

"I'm afraid Chloe can't play right now."

"It's okay. I should be going, too." He turned towards his bike, but stopped. "Feel better, Chloe."

She had her head rested on Dale's shoulder, but she smiled as she was carried back into the house.

Sam climbed onto his bike and headed back towards Bobby's house. He parked the bike by the house and went inside.

Bobby looked up from the book he was reading as Sam came in. "How'd the bike go?"

"Good." Sam went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. "I met the girl that lives down the road."

Bobby stood in the doorway. "What girl?"

Sam turned. "Down the road. They just moved here." He frowned for a moment. "She couldn't play cause she's been sick."

"I don't want you playing at other people's houses until I meet them."

"I know." He rolled his eyes. "I stayed by the road." He finished the water. "Her dad works at the hospital, in the morgue. Can I see her tomorrow?"

"How about I go with you and meet her dad first."

Sam nodded. "Okay. Need me to help with dinner?"

"Won't say no." He smiled and opened the refrigerator to figure out something to make.


	3. Resting

I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Bobby or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.

I had been wanting to write a new Supernatural story for a while, and that's actually what I intended 'Far From Home' to be, but 'Far From Home' ended up being a Robin and Batman story. So I had been working on plot points for the Winchesters and it finally gelled together.

Sam is an adorable 9 year old kid and Dean is an awesome 13.

-ff-

Dinner was chicken, peas and potatoes with ice cream for dessert. That was one thing Sam, and Dean especially, loved about staying at Bobby's house. Bobby knew how to cook.

Sam stood at the sink and washed up the last of the plates. Bobby was drying, mostly because he couldn't get his cast wet.

"Uncle Bobby?"

Bobby put a cup into the cupboard. "Yeah?"

"Could I look at the books in your library?"

"How about we look at them together."

Sam smiled. "Okay."

Bobby had acquired a small collection of books from the library sale that would have interested a nine-year-old boy. A few Hardy Boys books and some others. He'd never admit that maybe he picked up those books for the chance that a certain pair of Winchester boys might need something to read. Sam was much more interested in the books than Dean ever was, but Bobby sort of liked that. He liked noticing the differences between the boys and wondered if John did.

Once all the dishes were clean and put away, Bobby and Sam went into Bobby's library. Books were packed in rows two deep on the shelves and piled up in the corners of the room. Sam loved that room. He loved standing among all the books and wondering what was in each of them. He knew that a lot of them were for researching things that his dad and Bobby hunted, but he also knew that some others were just books. Harmless and waiting to be read.

Bobby brought Sam's attention to a stack of books, the very books Bobby had picked up for those boys.

"How about we try some of these." Bobby eased into a chair and carefully rested his broken arm. "Any of those look good?"

Sam carefully picked up each book and looked at the cover, sometimes he'd flip to a page or two. Eventually a book was chosen, a Hardy Boys mystery. Bobby thought Sam might like those.

"Could I read this one?" Sam held it up. "I'll be really careful."

"I know you will." Bobby looked outside at the daylight that was left. "I thought you'd be wanting to ride that bike until it was dark."

Sam shrugged. "I'm going to read this, okay?"

"Sure."

The boy left the room. Bobby wondered if there wasn't something up with Sam. Sure, it wasn't uncommon to find Sam somewhere with a book open in his lap, but during the summer it was damn near impossible to get him to come inside most nights. Especially with that new bike carefully parked against the house practically begging to be ridden. Bobby let it go and decided to give Sam some space.

After an hour or so, when it was starting to get dark and there was only about an hour of light left, Bobby went to the living room to check on Sam. The boy was on the couch with the book open in his lap, as Bobby expected. Sam reached up and rubbed his forehead and everything started to make sense to Bobby.

"Sam?"

He turned to Bobby in the doorway.

"You all right?"

Sam nodded.

"So you don't have a bit of a headache, then?"

There was the briefest of hesitations before he shrugged.

"Give me a second, kiddo." Bobby went up to the bathroom to get the bottle of Children's Tylenol, another thing he never thought he'd have in his house.

He read the label and dumped one of the pills into his hand. He went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. Both were presented to Sam. The boy looked up at Bobby with eyes as deep as the ocean before he accepted and finished the water. Bobby figured Dean would have known Sam had a headache hours ago, Dean knew that kid better than anyone else in the world.

Bobby sat down on the couch. "You know, you don't have to keep things from me."

"Didn't want to be trouble." Sam muttered.

"Never could be. If you need something, Sam, you just let me know. Okay?"

Sam nodded. "Okay."

Bobby turned on the evening news and Sam set the book on the end table. It wasn't long before Sam had fallen asleep.

The phone rang just before nine. Bobby grabbed it, his eyes on Sam to make sure the boy didn't wake up.

"Yeah?"

"It's John." The phone crackled over the distance.

He leaned against the wall. "How'd the drive go?"

"Long, but we're here. Got a couple nights until the full moon, so we have a little time to get familiar with the terrain and figure out exactly what we're up against." The phone on John's end was shifted. "Christ, Dean, give me a minute."

Bobby smiled. "Caleb with you?"

"Yeah. How's Sam?"

He paused. "The kid was pretty sad after you all left, but I bribed him with a bike that I found out back and he cheered right up." Another pause. "Had a bit of a headache after dinner, he's asleep on the couch."

"He's all right otherwise?" John felt his stomach tighten.

"Far as I can tell. I'll keep an eye on him. Don't worry."

"Sorry, Bobby." The phone shifted again. "He's fine, Dean."

He sighed. "It's not a big deal, John. We're fine. Want me to get him to talk to Dean."

"I'd hate to wake him."

"Do you know how mad he'll be at me if he learns I didn't let him you when you called? That's all he's been waiting for today."

John breathed a small laugh. "Yeah, I bet."

Bobby set the phone down and went over to Sam. He hated to wake the boy, but Sam wouldn't want to miss talking to his family.

"Sam. Sammy." Bobby rested his hand on Sam's shoulder.

He opened his eyes and blinked a few times.

"How are you feeling?"

Sam shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

"Wanna talk to your dad and brother?"

He practically flew off the couch. "Dad?" Bobby smiled as Sam twisted the phone cord around his fingers. "I'm okay. Not too bad. I will." Then Sam smiled, bigger than Bobby had seen all day. "Dean, guess what? I have a bike here, it's red and it goes super fast."

Bobby went into the library to give Sam some time alone. After nearly twenty minutes, Sam appeared in the doorway.

"Dad says he wants to talk to you again."

Bobby went back to the phone and Sam stood close.

"Let me know if you all need anything. See you in a week or so. Be careful." Bobby winked at Sam. "Talk to you later." He hung up the phone.

"Everything's fine, Sam. They'll be back soon." Bobby met Sam's eyes. "You need anything?"

Sam shook his head.

"How about we put in a movie."

Sam smiled. "Okay."

"You headache better?"

He nodded.

It wasn't more than half way through the movie before Sam was asleep again. Bobby pulled a blanket over the boy and turned down the volume on the television. He wasn't too worried about Sam sleeping, the kid was up at five thirty to see his dad and brother off.

Around midnight Bobby turned off the television and tried to decide whether if it was better to leave Sam sleeping on the couch or wake him up to get him to bed.

He rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Hey, kiddo. Time for bed."

Bobby wished he had two working arms so he could just carry the boy up to bed, but somehow Bobby managed to guide a half awake Sam up to bed. Bobby traded the boys jeans for shorts and tucked him under the blankets. He brushed Sam's hair back and smiled despite himself.

"Goodnight, Kid." Bobby left the door open and went to his own room to get some sleep.

-ff-

note: Thank you all for the reviews, you are what keeps me writing this.


	4. Tests

I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Bobby or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.

I had been wanting to write a new Supernatural story for a while, and that's actually what I intended 'Far From Home' to be, but 'Far From Home' ended up being a Robin and Batman story. So I had been working on plot points for the Winchesters and it finally gelled together.

Sam is an adorable 9 year old kid and Dean is an awesome 13.

-ff-

Sam was up, dressed and reading his book again when Bobby came down to the living room in the morning. The early morning sun was bright through the windows.

"How's your head?"

Sam turned. "Fine." He smiled. "Really."

"How about some breakfast, then."

The boy smiled and ran into the kitchen. He was already seated at the table when Bobby came in.

"Cereal or cereal?"

"Tough choice, Bobby, but I'm going to have to go with the cereal."

It was the type of thing Dean would have said and Bobby made a note to tell John to separate those boys more often, otherwise he'd end up with trouble. "Smart ass." He muttered and put a bowl of corn flakes in front of Sam.

"Thanks." He smiled.

"Gonna ride your bike again, today?"

"Uh huh." Sam swallowed the mouthful of cereal. "And you said you were going to meet Chloe's dad so I could play with her maybe." He met Bobby's eyes.

"So I did." He sighed. "I suppose you want to do that right away?"

Sam looked up at the clock. "Maybe after lunch? Don't wanna go over too early or something." He shrugged. "It's only polite."

Bobby couldn't help but laugh and figured John must be doing something right by those boys.

"What?" Sam glared at him, clearly he didn't get the joke.

"Nothin, kid. Finish your breakfast." Bobby sat down to a cup of strong and not particularly good coffee.

Sam finished his breakfast and rinsed out his bowl in the sink. He turned to Bobby. "I'm gonna ride the bike, okay?"

"I expected nothing less."

The boy ran from the house. Bobby heard the front screen door slam. He reveled in the silence for a while. He didn't mind Sam, he loved the Winchester boys in his house, but it did make everything considerably busier. The front door slammed again and Sam came running back into the kitchen.

"That was quick." Bobby looked up at him.

Sam put the paper on the table. "Here. Thought you'd want this, it was in the middle of the driveway." And then he ran out again.

"Thanks." Bobby opened the paper and began to read. Just him and his paper and his coffee. He smiled.

Bobby had four hours of relative quiet to get some research done. The kid had some eerie timing. As soon as the clock hit noon, Sam came back to the living room.

"Lunchtime?" He perched on the arm of Bobby's chair.

"Yeah, lunchtime." He sighed and pushed himself up. "Sandwiches or mac and cheese?"

Sam leveled him with a glare. "You have to ask?" 

"Fill up a pot with water."

The boy ran from the room. Bobby smiled to himself, his hours of quiet were limited now that Sam was back to his usual self. He wouldn't have it any other way.

"Bobby?"

"Coming. Christ." He pushed himself up from the chair and went into the kitchen.

As though some very helpful poltergeist had visited, the table was set and a pot with water was waiting on the stove. Sam sat at the table and paged through his book until he found where he left off.

Bobby pulled some vegetables from the freezer and dumped them in a bowl to heat up in the microwave.

Despite Sam's eagerness for lunch, he waited patiently for the water to boil and the macaroni to cook. He sat quietly at the table and read his book. He'd look up occasionally to check on lunch, but there wasn't any whining or asking or begging.

"All right, Sammy." Bobby turned from the stove.

Sam got up and helped carry the dishes to the table. He waited until Bobby was seated before he put the food on his plate. They talked about baseball and soccer, of all things. When lunch was over, Sam went over to wash up the dishes without being asked.

"Hey, Sam."

He turned from the sink.

"Let's go meet that girl's dad. Dishes can wait."

Sam smiled and ran out the back door to get his bike. He biked slowly and in circles around Bobby he walked to the farm down the road.

Dale was out mowing the lawn when Bobby stopped at the end of the driveway. Dale turned and switched off the mower.

"Can I help you?" He wiped his hands on his jeans as he walked towards them.

Sam didn't see Chloe in the yard, maybe she was inside. Maybe she was sick again and couldn't play.

Bobby smiled. "I'm looking after Sam here, and just wanted to make sure he was safe. He said that yesterday he met your daughter." He extended his unbroken hand.

"I understand." Dale shook Bobby's hand. "Dale LaFayette."

"Bobby Singer. You from Louisiana?"

Dale smiled. "Yes, sir. Born and raised. Accent gave it away, huh?"

"Yeah." Bobby smiled. "What brings you all the way up here?"

"Had some family trouble, this was the best place for my daughter and me." His eyes clouded with some painful memory, but he forced a smile. "But we're doin better now."

Bobby put his arm around Sam's shoulders. "Sammy said your little girl was sick? I don't mean to pry, just if there's anything I could do."

"Yeah, she got real sick. She gets tired easy, but we're fightin through."

Sam glanced towards the house. "She's inside?"

Dale smiled. "Sleepin right now. She might be up to playin outside a little later."

Bobby squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to know where Sammy was."

"No problem. Y'all feel free to come by any time. Chloe doesn't have any friends here, and all she could talk about yesterday was Sam." He winked at Sam.

"I'll send Sam by later this afternoon, if that's all right. Or Chloe is always welcome over at our place, too."

"Thank you." Dale glanced back at the mower. "I should get back, otherwise the grass will grow up and it won't look like I've done a thing. Nice to meet you."

"You, too." Bobby shook hands with Dale again.

Sam walked his bike next to Bobby as they headed back to the house. The lawnmower started up again and Dale went back to work.

"So?" Sam looked up at Bobby.

"I need to do a little research on him, but from what I can tell, it's all right."

Bobby noticed how Dale didn't react to the holy water Bobby had soaked his hands in, or the silver ring he was wearing. The salt in his palm didn't do anything either. Usually Bobby's intuition was pretty good, but Dale didn't cause any alarm bells. Bobby had already done a little research on the new family that moved it, but he didn't find much without a name or previous address.

Sam sighed. "Okay."

"I ain't doin this to punish you, Sammy."

"I know." Sam understood, he really did. "It's okay. I'll just be reading on the front porch until you decide." He jumped on his bike and rode back to the house.

Sam was already on the porch with the book open when Bobby got back. The boy looked up and smiled at him as he passed.

Bobby went to his library and began researching the LaFayettes from Louisiana. It didn't take him more than a couple calls to the library in town and a few hunter friends that were in the area. Seems as though Dale lost a wife and son in a house fire, but that was nearly five years ago. Then Chloe got sick, like deathbed sick, from something the doctors couldn't quiet figure out. Dale sold everything to pay for the medical bills. There was a bit of a gap, about a month, where Bobby couldn't find anything and then Dale and Chloe moved here.

By mid-afternoon, as far as Bobby could tell, the LaFayettes were all right. Sam would be thrilled.

Bobby stood and went to the porch. "If you wanna bike down and see if Chloe is awake, you can. Just, I don't want you playin in the house. Stay in the yard. Got it?"

Sam jumped to his feet. "Really?"

"Stay in the yard and come home by dinner in a couple hours."

"Okay. I will." Sam was already off the porch and on his bike.

Bobby watched him speed down the road with a smile.

Chloe was sitting on a blanket with a couple of her dolls when Sam stopped at the end of her driveway. "Hi."

She looked up and smiled. "Hi. My daddy said you could play, if you want."

"Okay." Sam parked his bike by the side of the driveway. "Does it have to be dolls?"

"Never played dolls before?" She smirked.

"Can't say I have." He sighed and sat down.

She met Sam's eyes. "I could play on the swing while you climb the tree, or somethin. Daddy says I can't climb it 'til I'm stronger."

Sam and Chloe went over to the tree. The branches were prefect for climbing. Sam shimmied up into the leaves while Chloe sat on the swing.

"I love this swing, cause if you swing out far enough, you go over the ditch and you feel like your flying." She swung hard and leaned back.

Sam looked down at her. Her shirt pulled up a little and a thick scar went up the center of her stomach, like she had been cut down the middle. Sam guess it must have been from when she was sick.

She laughed, a bright and sweet sound. "You're my first friend in a long time."

"We move a lot." Sam climbed to another branch. "So I don't get friends for very long before we have to leave again." He shrugged.

"You get lonely?"

He nodded.

"Me too." She swung higher and smiled.

Sam jumped down from the tree.

Chloe and Sam played in the yard, mostly on the swing and the tree. She didn't have much energy, so some of the time she would just sit and watch Sam swing or climb.

Dale came out of the house with a glass of something that looked sort of like a protein shake. "Chloe. I want you to drink this and then come inside."

She made a face but did as she was asked.

"I should probably head back. Told Bobby I'd be home for dinner." Sam shrugged. "I had fun, Chloe."

"Can you come back tomorrow?"

Sam nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Mr. LaFayette for letting me come over."

"Any time, Sam, and please, call me Dale."

Sam got on his bike and headed back to Bobby's. He carefully parked his bike next to the house and went inside to was his hands.

Bobby came into the kitchen. "Have fun?"

"Yep. Thanks for letting me go."

"Sure thing, kid." He rubbed Sam's hair. "Wanna help me with dinner?"

Sam nodded and ducked away.

"There's a bag of sweet corn on the back steps. Can you husk it for me and I'll grill up some hamburgers."

"Can I have a cheeseburger?"

Bobby laughed. "I think we can manage that."

Sam went out back to get started on the corn.

They ate dinner on the back porch. After, Sam rode his bike around the yard until it started to get too dark to see properly. Sam was called in for a bath, which he tried to refuse and then lost the argument.

When Bobby stopped by Sam's bedroom door, Sam was asleep. The light was on and the book was open in his hand. Bobby smiled as he marked the place in the book and switched off the light.

-ff-

note: Thank you all for the reviews, you are what keeps me writing this.


	5. Worry

I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Bobby or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.

I had been wanting to write a new Supernatural story for a while, and that's actually what I intended 'Far From Home' to be, but 'Far From Home' ended up being a Robin and Batman story. So I had been working on plot points for the Winchesters and it finally gelled together.

Sam is an adorable 9 year old kid and Dean is an awesome 13.

-ff-

Bobby wasn't surprised to find Sam awake and halfway through a bowl of cereal in the morning.

"Morning, Bobby." Sam smiled at him. "Coffee's started."

He looked over at the coffee pot and saw that the boy had indeed made coffee. Bobby poured himself a cup and found that it was a hell of a lot better than the stuff he usually made.

"Not bad." He sat down at the table.

"Dean showed me how. Dad says he likes my coffee better than Dean's." Sam looked up at Bobby, the smiled gone from his face. "They didn't call last night."

"Aw, Sammy. I bet they were just out getting the lay of the land. Probably too late to call when they got back to the room."

"Full moon's tonight." He muttered.

"Yeah, it is." Bobby reached across the table and took Sam's hand. "They're gonna be fine. I promise. You wanna go over and see Chloe today?"

"What if Dean or dad calls?"

"I'll make sure I get the number so you can call back and I'll tell you as soon as they do."

Sam met his eyes. "Promise?"

"Promise."

As Bobby noted before, on occasion, Sam's timing was spooky. The phone rang and Bobby had three guesses as to who it was.

"Why don't you answer that." Bobby smiled.

Sam ran from the table. "Hello, Singer Salvage – Dean!"

There was something between them boys stronger than blood. Nothing on earth would keep them apart and Bobby pitied the thing that thought it could come between them.

That boy talked to his big brother for the better part of a half hour before Sam reluctantly came into the kitchen to tell Bobby that John wanted to talk to him. Sam loitered in the doorway.

"Yeah, John, I checked him out. He seems all right. No, Sam doesn't go in the house and yes, I told him to stay in the yard." Bobby sighed and winked at Sam. "Tell me what you know."

Sam knew then that they would be talking about the job. He grabbed his book and went out to the front porch. Bobby came out a half hour later.

"Your dad says to be careful, not to go into their house and to remember your training."

Sam sighed. "But?"

"But have fun and be safe."

"Really?"

Bobby nodded. "Really. Come back in time for lunch."

Sam tucked the book in the back of his jeans, jumped off the porch and grabbed his bike. He stopped, and ran to the paper that lay in the middle of the driveway. He tossed it to Bobby who caught it one-handed.

"Bobby, maybe you should get your paper person to throw better." Sam smiled as he grabbed the bike and took off down the road.

"Smart ass." Bobby muttered with a smile.

When Sam arrived in Chloe's driveway, he knew something was different. Chloe sat in a lawn chair with a blanket wrapped around her. Dale sat on the porch and carved a piece of wood.

"Mr. Dale?"

Dale looked up and smiled. "Chloe's been asking after you. I'm afraid she won't be able to do much today. Sometimes she has bad days."

"I brought a book. Maybe we could just read?"

He smiled. "That sounds like a good idea."

Sam went over to Chloe. She moved over so there was room for him and he squeezed in next to her. He opened the book to the first page so they could both see. It took a lot longer to read, when you had to make sure the other person had finished the page, but Sam didn't mind.

"I like this story." She smiled up at him.

He smiled back. "Me, too."

After about an hour Chloe struggled to sit forward. Sam rested a hand on her back to help. She shoved the blanket back and stood.

"You okay?"

She nodded, out of breath and paler than Sam had ever seen her. "Just gotta get somethin."

She took a few steps towards the house and then brought her hand up to her chest. "Daddy?" She fell to her knees.

Dale sprinted from the porch and swept his daughter up in his arms. She grabbed his shirt collar for a moment and then went limp. Without a glance over at Sam, Dale sprinted to the car and put her in the passenger side. He got in and pulled onto the road. Sam was left alone in the middle of their empty yard.

Sam's heart was pounding. He was scared for Chloe and hoped she would be all right. He left the book on the lawn chair for her if she wanted to read it when she got back. He went over and got his bike. He rode home slowly and with each rotation of the pedals he wished her well.

Bobby was surprised to see Sam home with an hour until lunch. He also could see that something was wrong.

"Sammy?"

Sam looked up as he climbed the porch steps. "Chloe got sick, I think her dad took her to the hospital." He sat down on the top step.

"Sometimes people get sick, Sammy." Bobby sat down next to him.

"Yeah, and sometimes they don't get better." He muttered.

"Hey, you have no reason to think she won't get better. Okay?'

He nodded.

"Want to help me get lunch ready?"

Sam picked at his shoelace. "No."

"Let me know if you need anything." Bobby stood and went into the house.

Sam sighed and rested his chin on his knee. He knew there was nothing he could do to help Chloe, just like he knew there was nothing he could do to make sure his brother and dad stayed safe that night. He set his jaw and went down to the driveway. He picked up a handful of gravel and started throwing rocks out towards the mailbox.

Bobby stood on the porch and watched the boy. Sam had always been a quiet kid, more inclined to watch and listen, not to say that he didn't speak his mind when he thought he needed to. He had always paid such close attention to everything, always been quick to put it all together and also quick to keep what worried him to himself. He kept quiet so he wouldn't be any trouble, Bobby knew that.

A rock bounced off the mailbox with a satisfying thud.

"Something wrong, Sammy?" Bobby walked over to him.

Sam's jaw was set hard.

"Worried about Chloe?" Bobby paused and figured that wasn't everything. "Worried about your dad and brother?"

The remaining rocks fell from Sam's hand. "If they don't call in the morning, we're going up there to find them." His words were low.

Bobby admired his passion and his devotion to his family. That Winchester notion of family first, everything else after.

"All right."

Sam nodded once and then turned to Bobby. "Sorry about the mailbox."

"Hell, you didn't even scratch it. Why don't we go in and have some lunch."

"I'm not hungry."

"I didn't recall asking if you were hungry." He eased his arm around Sam's shoulders. "Come on, kiddo."

Sam was guided back to the house and into a kitchen chair. Bobby set a sandwich in front of the boy.

"Eat half and I'll let you go." Bobby sat down with his own lunch.

Sam picked up his sandwich and took a bite. He shot a glare at Bobby, but the man paid no mind. Sometimes the only way to combat that Winchester stubborn streak was with a strong hand and few options. Bobby had learned that with John years ago, back before Sam could even talk.

"What do you plan on doing after lunch?"

The boy shrugged.

"There's more books to be read."

"Can I stay up late, to make sure my dad and brother are okay?" He flashed those big, innocent eyes that already had Dean and, most of the time, John.

"If you can stay awake, I don't mind what you do." He figured the kid would either stay awake in bed or Sam could stay awake and keep him company, cause he sure as hell wasn't sleeping either.

Not that there was much Bobby could do if the job went south, but he at least would be awake and ready to do something if John needed him to. Also, Bobby tended to find it difficult to put his thoughts to rest when he knew one of his good friends were up against a few werewolves.

Sam finished his sandwich and put his plate in the sink. "I'll be out back." He detoured to the library for a book before he slipped outside.

Bobby didn't see Sam until he called the boy in for dinner a handful of hours later. Sam came in with the book finished. Bobby had been looking through papers, there had been a few strange occurrences that he couldn't quite explain. Strange things without explanations didn't often bode well in Bobby's experience.

"Hey, Chloe has a scar like that." Sam had his finger rested on a picture that was half tucked under a newspaper.

Bobby slid out the picture. It was of a corpse that had an autopsy preformed on it.

He looked over at Sam. "Sometimes people need surgery that can leave scars similar to that."

Sam shook his head. "No, it looked like that. I mean I didn't see the v at the top, but the one down the middle. She leaned back on the swing and her shirt went up a little." He shrugged. "They only do that to people who died. Right?"

"Yeah."

He shrugged. "Must be something different then." He started to leave the room.

"Sam, want to set the table?"

He held up the book. "Just going to put this back."

Dinner wasn't quiet as silent as lunch was, Sam seemed in better spirits after some time on his own to sort out his thoughts. Dean, he'd just take a baseball bat to one of the dented cars and come back like nothing happened, but Sam needed time on his own. Bobby had noticed that over the years, too.

Bobby knew that Sam would sit and count the hours until dark, then the hours until the moon rose and then the hours until dawn. No kid needed to do that, so Bobby was in charge of running distraction.

"Wanna play checkers or cards?"

Sam looked up from the plate he was drying? "What?" 

"We got us some time, checkers or cards."

"Checkers." Sam wiped his hands on his pants. "But I've been able to beat Dean for a year now."

"He probably lets you win."

Sam smirked. "If he does, he's real good at pretending to be mad."

Bobby went into the living room and set up the board. He noticed how Sam glanced at the clock and then how light it was outside before he sat down.

"Red or black?" Bobby met Sam's eyes,

Even at nine, the kid had a great poker face. "Red."

-ff-

note: Thank you all for the reviews, you are what keeps me writing this. Don't worry, there's danger to come.


	6. Goodbye

I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Bobby or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.

I had been wanting to write a new Supernatural story for a while, and that's actually what I intended 'Far From Home' to be, but 'Far From Home' ended up being a Robin and Batman story. So I had been working on plot points for the Winchesters and it finally gelled together.

Sam is an adorable 9 year old kid and Dean is an awesome 13.

-ff-

As good as Bobby was at keeping Sam distracted, the kid still looked up at the clock just about every ten minutes. Sam didn't mention the hunt at all, didn't mention that the full moon had risen and was lighting up the yard like a streetlight. He just kept playing checkers and reading books and watching movies; between checking the hour hand on the clock.

Sam made a valiant effort, but around one in the morning he finally fell asleep on the couch. He had been fighting it for the past hour and a half, but Bobby didn't bother mentioning going to bed. It would have only resulted in an argument that Sam would have won, like all those games of checkers. Bobby threw a blanket over the boy and turned the volume down on the movie. It wouldn't be the first time he had pulled an all-nighter, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Bobby flipped through channels of infomercials and late night ads for phone dating. Sam shifted under the blanket and muttered something about "Dean" and "dad" before he calmed again. Despite his best efforts, Bobby managed to catch a few hours of sleep himself.

He woke to the room not much lighter than when he fell asleep. Sam was still asleep on the couch, the television was still on, though now the programming was changing to the earliest of early morning news. His shoulder was stiff from the weight of the cast and sitting in the chair. He felt gritty and raw somehow, late nights and little sleep did that.

The sun was about an hour from rising, but the sky was showing the first signs of warming to daylight.

The phone rang and Bobby was up to get it before it could wake Sam. "Singer."

"Bobby." John sounded about five miles past exhausted.

"How'd it go?"

"We're all right. Tell Sammy that."

He looked in at Sam. "You get it done?"

"Yeah." John sighed. "It's done."

"Any of you get hurt?" He could tell the answer in John's voice, but he needed details if he was going to tell Sam anything.

"Nothing that will kill any of us." The phone shifted. "Listen, I gotta go. I'll call again when we're out of this town and in the next."

"Is Dean hurt?"

There was a pause that made Bobby's blood run cold. "Cracked ribs, maybe. He saved our asses out there. I gotta go, Bobby."

"Talk to you later." Bobby hung up the phone.

"Are they okay?" Sam was sitting up on the couch, the blanket pooled around his waist.

Bobby turned at met the kid's eyes in the near darkness. "They're fine."

"That just means they're not dead." Sam's tone was bitter. "Dean?"

"A little banged up, but he's fine. I swear."

Sam nodded, took the information into account. "Knew I shoulda gone." He pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and curled back onto the couch.

"Aw, kid. Nothin you coulda done." Bobby sat on the couch near Sam's feet.

"How bad?"

"Didn't say."

Sam sat up and moved close to Bobby. He put his good arm around the kid's shoulders. They sat like that for a while, in the quiet darkness of the too early morning. When Bobby was sure that Sam was back asleep, he eased out from under the boy's weight. Sam almost woke, but just turned over and buried his face against the couch cushions. Bobby went up to his bed to get a few hours of real sleep and to try and loosen up his stiff shoulder.

When Sam woke again, the room was bright with late morning sun. He heard the rustle of papers from the kitchen and knew Bobby was awake and most likely researching something or another. He remembered that his brother and dad were alive at least, and he remembered that Chloe was most likely at the hospital. He sat up and went to find Bobby.

He looked up when Sam came into the room. "Hey, kid."

Sam sat down and looked over the papers Bobby was reading.

"You want breakfast?" Bobby looked over at the clock. "Well, I guess it's pretty much lunch now."

He shook his head and pulled a newspaper page over so he could read it.

Bobby pulled it back. "You don't need to be reading that."

"That just makes me wanna read it more." Sam tried to see, it was more pictures of autopsies. "What's going on?"

"Nothin you need to worry about."

"Bobby." The kid was gonna be a lawyer some day, he had to be. "I've seen a lotta stuff. What's going on? It's not like I have anything else to do but wait for my dad and Dean to come back."

Bobby sighed, he didn't have much of a choice. "Just some strange things. Corpses missing hearts, people gettin autopsies and not needing them. Nothing with supernatural proof. Yet."

Sam nodded. "But you know better."

"Somethin like that."

He traced the pattern of the tabletop with his finger. "To do that, someone would have to work in a hospital?"

"Yeah, probably." Bobby had already pieced together what Sam was working on.

"If Chloe comes back, I can't play with her. Can I?"

There were those innocent eyes again, the ones that people found so hard to resist. "I don't know, Sammy. It's not looking good, but I got nothing that says Dale's involved at all." Bobby shrugged. "He can't be the only person at the hospital with access to all that."

Sam shrugged. "It's okay, you can tell me I can't go back. I'd understand." He got up from the table. "I'm gonna be out back."

Bobby heard the back door slam. He hated that Sam, and Dean, had to grow up as fast as they did. Hated that these kids had to know about the dark out there and had learned to suspect anyone and everyone. Hated that Sam had to spend time with him only because his father and brother were off fighting something dark.

The phone rang and it was too early for John to be calling. Bobby grabbed the phone. "Singer."

He listened as one of his contacts in town gave him more information on what he was working on. He had to go into town to check out some things.

He went to the back porch. "Sam?"

Sam came out from around a car.

"I got to go into town for a bit, research. You want to come or you want to stay here?" He figured Sam might want some time alone, and John said it was all right if Sam was alone for a couple hours.

"Can I stay here?" Sam kicked at the dirt.

"Sure. Number's by the phone, I'll be back in a couple hours." He paused. "You need anything?" 

Sam shook his head and walked towards the house. "Just gonna read, probably." He headed towards the library to find a book.

Bobby looked in at Sam, saw him reading and went out to the truck. Sam waited a full ten minutes after Bobby left before he jumped up and ran for his bike.

Sam pedaled fast for Chloe's house. He knew he shouldn't go, he knew that he wasn't really supposed to, but he had to make sure she was all right. He had to explain why he couldn't ever see her again.

He was surprised to see Dale's car in the driveway and even more surprised to see Dale and Chloe sitting on lawn chairs on front porch. He stopped near the house and let his bike fall after he got off of it. Chloe was asleep, a blanket tucked around her.

"Mr. Dale?"

He smiled at Sam. "Hey, Sam."

"Is she okay?"

"She will be." He looked over at her. "Could you sit with here for a minute? I have to go in and get some water for her." 

Sam nodded and walked up the steps. He carefully sat next to Chloe. She half woke and leaned against his shoulder. Sam looked to Dale to make sure it was all right. Dale smiled at him and slipped inside.

"Sammy?" Chloe whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Glad you're here."

He swallowed. "I don't know if I can play as much as before. My dad's gonna be back soon, and I'll have to leave."

Chloe lifted her chin and kissed Sam's cheek. "It's okay. I'm glad I met you."

"I'm glad I met you, too." He found himself smiling despite everything.

Dale came back out and handed a glass of water to Chloe. She took a slow drink before he took it back.

"Chloe, I want you inside to rest for a bit."

"Yes, daddy." She turned to Sam. "Goodbye, Sam."

"Bye." He stood.

Dale picked up Chloe and carried her inside. Sam stood on their porch for a few minutes before he got his bike and went back to Bobby's.

-ff-

note: Thank you all for the reviews, you are what keeps me writing this. Don't worry, there's danger to come. I might not be able to post for a few days (or a week). I'm heading back home to visit with friends and family, so not sure what my freetime or internet abilities will be. Sorry for the delay. I'll post as soon as I can.


	7. To Fall

I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Bobby or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.

I had been wanting to write a new Supernatural story for a while, and that's actually what I intended 'Far From Home' to be, but 'Far From Home' ended up being a Robin and Batman story. So I had been working on plot points for the Winchesters and it finally gelled together.

Sam is an adorable 9 year old kid and Dean is an awesome 13.

-ff-

Bobby got back to the house after a few hours. The information he got might be helpful, but it was too soon to tell. The house was quiet, but that wasn't uncommon if Sam was holed up reading somewhere.

"Sammy, you read through the library while I was gone?" Bobby dropped the notebooks and papers off at the kitchen table. "Sam?"

It wasn't like the kid to not answer when his name was called. Bobby thought back to remember if he had seen the bike in the yard as he looked through the rooms. He found Sam asleep on the couch, a book held loose in his hand. Sam's hair was stuck to his forehead in damp pieces and his cheeks were flushed. Bobby rested his hand against the boy's forehead and felt the heat of a fever.

"Sammy?" He brushed the boy's hair back.

Sam slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Bobby.

"Not feeling the greatest, kiddo?"

The boy shook his head slightly. "Headache." He rubbed his eyes.

"And a bit of a fever." Bobby rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Do you want to stay here or get some rest up in your bed?"

"Stay here." His eyes were already slipping back closed.

Bobby eased off Sam's shoes. "Stay awake for a few minutes so I can get some medicine and juice into you. All right?"

Sam nodded and rubbed a hand across his eyes. He wanted Dean. He hated being sick and he really hated being sick when Dean was gone. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

Bobby came back with a glass of apple juice and the bottle of Children's Tylenol. Sam pushed himself up so he was sitting. The kid looked exhausted and his eyes were glassy from the fever. Sam took the medication and drank the juice without much prompting from Bobby.

"Get some sleep." Bobby rested his hand on Sam's head. "You're all right."

"When are my dad and brother getting back?" He slipped down against the couch cushions.

"Tomorrow maybe." Bobby pulled a blanket over the boy. "I'll ask when they call."

"Wake me up when they do." He was already half asleep.

"Course." Bobby stood.

His eyes were closed. "Bobby?"

"Yeah, Sammy."

"Stay? Just for a minute?"

Bobby had a hard time saying no to Sam when the kid was perfectly healthy, so he sure as hell wasn't going to say no to the kid when he was sick. "Let me just get a book so I can get some work done."

He refilled Sam's juice glass with water and grabbed his book. He set the glass on the coffee table, and sat down next to Sam's feet. Sam half sat up, even though Bobby was sure the kid was mostly asleep, and crawled into Bobby's lap. Damn, if that kid didn't manage to make Bobby feel about as tough as a new, spring lamb. If any one asked, Bobby wiped dust from his eye. Something about those damn Winchesters that reminded Bobby just how great it was to have someone fill up some space in his house.

They stayed like that for a couple hours, Sam asleep and Bobby half reading and half running his hand over Sam's hair. The phone rang and he wondered which would be worse, to wake the kid by moving or to have the kid wake up because of the phone. Sam shifted and Bobby took the opportunity to get up. He eased out from under the boy's head and went to get the phone.

"Yeah." Bobby stepped into the kitchen to try and keep from waking Sam.

"Hey, Bobby." Dean said.

"How you doin, kid?"

"Fine, just a little sore. Dad says we're gonna head out within the hour, so we should be back tomorrow afternoon after stopping for the night. How's Sammy?"

Bobby hesitated, he definitely didn't want to be the one to give Dean bad news about his baby brother. "Not feeling the best right now."

Instantly Dean was alert. "What's wrong with him? How sick is he? Fever? Coughing? Puking? Damnit, Bobby, why didn't you tell me sooner."

"Dean." Bobby took a breath. "He was fine until this afternoon. Bit of a fever and a headache, but he's sleeping now. I've given him some medication and made sure he drank some juice."

The phone shifted on Dean's end. "Dad wants to talk to you."

Bobby snuck a glance in at Sam.

"Bobby, how is he?" John still sounded exausted.

"Fever and headache." He paused. "Came on pretty fast though. He was fine this morning, then I went into town for a couple hours and Sam stayed at the house. I got back and he was asleep on the couch, already sick."

"We'll drive straight through, get there early morning."

"Don't go doing anything dangerous. I can handle things here."

"Yeah, but Dean won't let me do anything else. Besides, I need to see my boy, too." He sighed. "Tell Sam we'll call later and we'll be back soon."

"Drive safe, John." Bobby hung up the phone after he heard the dial tone.

He went back into the living room and sat back down. He guided Sam's head back to his lap and pulled the blanket up around the boy's shoulders. Sam still felt a little feverish, but the sleep would help and Bobby didn't mind keeping the kid company.

When the room started to grow dark, Bobby eased out from under Sam's head to get something for dinner. He didn't figure Sam was hungry, but the boy needed to eat even if it was just a little. Sam's eyes blinked open for a moment, but then he just buried his face in the blanket.

Bobby put a sandwich together for himself and warmed up some chicken noodle soup for Sam. He went into the living room with a mug of soup and sat down on the couch next to the boy. He was still asleep, didn't even shift when Bobby sat down.

"Sam. Sammy." Bobby rested his hand on Sam's leg.

He slowly woke and rubbed his hand across his eyes.

Bobby held up the mug. "Soup. I don't figure you're hungry, but you gotta eat just a little."

He sat up and took the mug from Bobby. Sam held it for a few minutes as he tried to wake up. His head still hurt, he was still cold and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a month. He took a few slow drinks of the soup because he was too tired to fight Bobby on it.

Bobby switched on the television and took the half full mug of soup back from Sam when he noticed the boy was holding it more than eating it. Poor kid looked miserable as he sat on the couch with the blanket wrapped around him. He reminded Bobby of when he was younger, looking closer to age five rather than age nine.

He went into the kitchen to put the rest of Sam's soup in the refrigerator.

"Bobby?"

He looked back in at Sam. "What do you need?"

"When are my dad and Dean getting back?" He rubbed his face on the edge of the blanket.

"Late tonight. They're gonna drive until they get here."

He nodded. "Can I stay here and wait for them?"

"Bet you'll sleep better in bed. No matter where you are, Sam, they're gonna see you as soon as they get in."

Sam leaned his head against the arm of the couch and Bobby ran his hand through the boy's hair. Bobby went back into the kitchen to finish putting everything away before he joined Sam back on the couch. As though the kid was a magnet, he was snuggled right up against Bobby again. He didn't mind one bit. Sam was asleep in under ten minutes, heavy and warm against Bobby's leg.

Bobby never had much experience with kids and even less with sick kids before the Winchesters entered his life. As much as he hated seeing Sam or Dean down with a cold or a flu, being sick tended to make those kids clingier and the sort of adorable that was usually reserved for puppies. Dean less as he got older and his stubbornness meshed with independence, but he'd still end up curled up against whoever was closest. Sam, when he wasn't feeling the best, always ended up in someone's lap, though it was usually Dean. The boy was nothing short of sweet, stuffed up nose, flushed cheeks and holding onto Bobby like there was nobody else he wanted. Even though Bobby knew he was just a substitute.

-ff-

note: Thank you all for the reviews, you are what keeps me writing this. Don't worry, there's danger to come in the next chapter. Sorry for the delay. I was home for a week and literally didn't even turn my computer on and then when I got back, I started a new job. This story has been on my mind, though, I haven't forgotten about you. A few more chapters and it should be done and all the mysteries solved. Thank you all for reading.


	8. Gone

I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Bobby or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.

I had been wanting to write a new Supernatural story for a while, and that's actually what I intended 'Far From Home' to be, but 'Far From Home' ended up being a Robin and Batman story. So I had been working on plot points for the Winchesters and it finally gelled together.

Sam is an adorable 9 year old kid and Dean is an awesome 13.

-ff-

About the time the ten o'clock news was starting, Bobby figured he better get the spare bed set up for John. He always had the spare bedroom ready for whoever happened by, but that was just a couple twin beds. The couch wasn't bad for a night, but after a hunt, John would probably appreciate a real bed. He slipped out from Sam's sleeping weight and made sure the boy hadn't woke before he went to set up the bed.

It took him twice as long as usual, partially because of his damn busted arm, but also because he couldn't help but check in on Sam a time or two. The boy still slept with the blanket pulled tight around him. Bobby didn't have to be a doctor to tell that the fever was up a little and it was probably time for more medication.

Once the bed was set up, Bobby grabbed the shirt and sweatpants Sam had been using as pajamas and went downstairs. He hated to wake the boy, but he needed to drink a little more.

Bobby knelt next to the couch. "Sammy?"

Sam blinked open his eyes and swallowed. "Back yet?" He whispered.

"Not yet, kiddo. Why don't you put these on so you'll be more comfortable and I'll get you some more juice."

He turned his face into the couch cushions for a moment before he sat up. Bobby left the shirt and sweatpants next to Sam as he went into the kitchen for the juice.

Bobby was measuring the Tylenol for Sam when he heard footsteps behind him. When he turned, Sam was standing in the doorway dressed in the sweatpants and shirt that must have been Dean's judging by the size of it.

"Whatcha need?"

He shrugged and rubbed his eyes.

Bobby handed Sam the glass of juice and the medication. Sam swallowed the pills and drank all of the juice without being prompted. Bobby was almost caught off guard when Sam stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Bobby's waist.

"Ah, kid. You're all right."

With some clever maneuvering and some balancing that Bobby thought he should probably win a medal for, he managed to pick Sam up without having to use his broken arm. Sam rested his hot cheek against Bobby's shoulder and held on. The two went back into the living room and sat down on the couch. Sam made no indication that he planned on leaving Bobby's arms. With a bit more adjusting, Bobby had shifted Sam so that the kid was curled up on his lap. The top of Sam's head was just under Bobby's chin and he didn't have to wonder why Dean was so fond of his brother.

"We'll just stay here for a bit." Bobby muttered.

It didn't take Sam long to fall back asleep. For about a half of a second, Bobby considered shifting Sam onto the couch, but having an armful of kid wasn't too terrible either. Besides, he didn't want to risk waking Sam up.

Bobby sat through the late night shows, but only half paid any attention to them. He was more focused on Sam's breathing, slow and steady in sleep. The way his little hands would move sometimes in a dream. The way he would turn his face towards Bobby's chest and breathe warm air against his shirt. Damn that kid for making him think he wanted that family he always said he didn't want. He lost track of time to infomercials and the boy on his lap.

The sound of a car in the driveway brought him from almost dozing. He sat up and shifted Sam to the couch.

"Bobby?" Sam was hardly awake enough to say that one word.

He ran his hand over Sam's hair. "Go back to sleep."

Bobby went to the back door and saw John and Dean getting out of the car. From that distance, they didn't look too injured. Dean practically ran up to the house. He slipped in past Bobby and headed for the stairs.

"Dean." Bobby whispered. "Living room."

With a quick flash of a tired smile, Dean detoured his course to find Sam.

When John got up to the house and the light of the kitchen, the bruises and split lip were visible. It mostly looked like he went ten rounds with a heavyweight champion.

"It's not as bad as it looks." John answered the question Bobby was about to ask. "How's Sammy?"

"Asleep for most of the evening. Fever's held, but not real high. He's in the living room, with Dean."

When Bobby and John got to the living room, Dean was already seated on the couch with Sam in his lap. Sam's hands were clenched around fistfuls of Dean's shirt as he slept.

John met Dean's eyes. "How's he doing?"

Dean shrugged and pressed his hand against Sam's forehead. "It's not too high. Should move him to bed."

John went over and picked up Sam.

He opened his eyes. "Dean?"

"Right here." Dean was on his feet and rested his hand on the center of Sam's back.

Sam buried his face against John's shoulder. John stood there for a moment, just holding his boy.

"I made up the spare cot, it's in the boys' room." Bobby kept his voice low.

"Thanks, Bobby. I owe you." John headed towards the stairs with Dean close behind.

Bobby shook his head, John didn't owe him anything. When he passed the room, Dean was in the bed with his arm around Sam and John was seated on the edge of the other, the cot sat unused for the time being. Both of the boys looked to be asleep.

"John." Bobby stopped in the doorway. "Need anything?"

He looked over at Bobby. "We're all right. Thank you for taking care of him."

"Any time. Let me know what I can do." He went off to bed.

John looked over at his boys once more before he crawled under the blankets and switched off the light.

Dean half woke every time Sam shifted. Sam was always restless when he had a fever and no amount of soothing from Dean could calm him. About an hour after John tucked them into bed, Sam woke. It was still dark, hours yet from dawn.

"You okay?" Dean breathed close to Sam's ear.

Sam nodded and started to get out from the tangle of blankets.

He was more awake now that Sam wasn't going back to sleep. "Where you going?"

Sam sat up and climbed out of bed. Dean wanted to follow, but figured he was just going to the bathroom. If Sam wasn't back in five minutes, then Dean was going after him. Dean rolled to his back and listened to Sam's quiet footsteps across the room. He was tired and wanted to get back to sleep, but not without knowing Sam was okay.

Dean sat up suddenly and pushed the blankets back.

"Dean?" John's was half awake, had been since he heard Dean's whispered words.

"No water ran in the bathroom." He was out of bed in a second.

John was right behind him. The bathroom was empty, just the shadows cast by the nightlight. John and Dean stopped at the top of the stairs to see if they could hear Sam anywhere. Maybe he just went to get a drink of water. Then they heard the front door slam.

Dean looked up and met John's eyes in the dark. They went down the stairs, on alert more that something came in rather than the idea that Sam went out. The top stair creaked behind them and they turned.

Bobby paused. "What's up?"

Dean took off for the front door. All the sudden he just knew Sam had gone outside, like he always knew things about Sam.

A car sat at the end of the driveway and a man stood next to the car. Sam was almost to the man and walking straight for him.

"Sam!" Dean yelled before he left the porch.

John and Bobby were behind him, both wishing they had grabbed some sort of weapon.

Sam stopped in front of the man and reached his arms up, like he used to do when he was little and wanted to be picked up. The man pulled Sam close and carried him into the car. They pulled away just as Dean got to the end of the driveway.

Dean ran after the car until the driver turned the lights off and the car disappeared into the darkness. He was breathing hard and his bruised ribs throbbed with pain. He didn't care about that, all he cared about was that Sam had been taken and he wasn't there in time to stop it.

"I'm pretty sure I know where that car is going." Bobby said.

Dean had forgotten they were behind him. John's hand landed heavy on Dean's shoulder.

"Let's go." John steered Dean back to the house.

The three ran back to Bobby's to get weapons so they could get Sam back.

-ff-

note: Thank you all for the reviews, you are what keeps me writing this. I had this chapter (and the one before it) pretty much written last night, but no internet to upload. A few more chapters and it should be done and all the mysteries solved. Thank you all for reading.


	9. The Bone Polisher's Message

I don't own Sam or Dean or John or the Impala or Bobby or Supernatural…..that's all the CW. So if they would be very kind to let me borrow it all for a bit, I promise to give it back….eventually…..well. Also, I lack an editor, so any mistakes are mine and please kindly overlook them (or let me know). Thanks.

I had been wanting to write a new Supernatural story for a while, and that's actually what I intended 'Far From Home' to be, but 'Far From Home' ended up being a Robin and Batman story. So I had been working on plot points for the Winchesters and it finally gelled together.

Sam is an adorable 9 year old kid and Dean is an awesome 13.

-ff-

The LaFayette house was dark when Bobby pulled his truck into the driveway. John's jaw was set and his eyes were dangerous and deep. Bobby didn't envy Dale when John and Dean got a hold of him. As they got weapons, Bobby filled them in on what his research had turned up.

John looked at the house. "Necromancy?"

"As far as I can tell, but there's got to be something more to it. He's been careful." Bobby pushed open his door.

"Dean-"

"I'm not staying here." He spat. That was his brother in there and he was going to make sure Sam was all right.

"Cover us when we're in." John continued as though he was never interrupted.

John handed Dean a handgun and the boy expertly checked to see how it was loaded. Silver. Worked against most things. John would have been proud if he wasn't so worried and desperate to see Sam.

The there were as silent as shadows as the moved towards the house. John picked the lock on the back door and was the first in the house. He paused for a second when he caught sight of the pictures Chloe had drawn, proudly displayed on the refrigerator. Like he had done with Sam's. Bobby had mentioned Chloe, said Sam mentioned a scar like an autopsy on her, but John didn't connect that there was a _kid_ involved.

Bobby stood at John's left elbow and met his eyes. "Basement." He breathed.

John nodded once and glanced back at Dean who was a few steps behind, his gun ready.

A heavy padlock hung open on the door, but it didn't open when John tried. He noticed something else, the door wasn't the standard wood of most basement doors, it was steel. Whatever was down there was well protected.

"Pick the lock." Dean whispered.

John glanced back at him, who knew how many other locks were on the other side. It was a waste of time.

Dean sighed and pushed past John. He pulled out his lock pick and bit his bottom lip in concentration. He was working on a theory that was more grasping at straws and hope rather than fact. The guy that took Sam seemed to be in a hurry, and not only because he was kidnapping a kid that belonged to three guys that never should be provoked into action.

It was a strong lock, stronger than the usual locks found on doors, and it took him more than a handful of minutes that felt like hours. Dean was vaguely aware of Bobby and John talking about other ways in, but he was mostly focused on the lock. The lock popped and Dean pushed the door open an inch. He stood up out of shock.

John looked over as surprised as his son. He rested his hand on Dean's shoulder, a silent 'good job' and slipped into the darkness of the basement. They paused to let their eyes and senses adjust, it would be stupid to risk any sort of light. From the depths of the basement there was the faint clanking of metal on metal, like a tool set on a metal counter and the light murmur of conversation.

John moved forward with stealth that came with years of practice. His heart pounded in his chest and all he wanted was to hold his son. He felt rather than heard Bobby and Dean behind him and there were no other hunters he'd rather have with him.

The basement was surprisingly uncluttered. Just a few boxes stacked in the corners. They passed what looked to be a table, like the ones used to hold the body during an autopsy. There was also a steel refrigerator with a padlock on it and John didn't care to find out the contents.

Light spilled from under a crack in a door in front of them. There was a small window near the top of the door. John gestured for Bobby and Dean to get against the wall as he carefully peered through the window. What he sat in the room stole his breath for a moment.

Sam lay on a steel table in only his sweatpants. He was asleep or unconscious, John couldn't tell. Dale leaned over something off to the side, he was wearing medical scrubs and had a surgical mask over his face. He straightened and turned to Sam. He gently wiped a damp cloth over Sam's forehead, like he had done it a hundred times before. John then saw what Dale had been standing by. Chloe lay on a gurney with a white sheet pulled over her legs. She was deathly pale and a heart monitor beeped irregularly next to her. There was a thick, y shaped scar down her chest, like she had been opened before.

Dale picked up a shining, silver scalpel and John kicked in the door. It was pure instinct and Bobby and Dean were right behind him. Dale was caught by surprise, but he recovered quickly when he saw three guns leveled at his head. He scooped up Sam, the boy limp in his arms, and held him in front of his chest.

"Let me explain." He held the scalpel near Sam's throat.

"Put my son down." John's words were cold and hard and dangerous.

Dale didn't flinch, he seemed as calm as if this were a conversation over beers. "I need him."

"So do I."

"You left him and I bet it wasn't the first time." His gaze flicked over to Chloe. "I've never left her a day in my life, and I never will."

Dale's words hit John deep, but he had more important things to focus on. His failings as a father were something to be thought about once his boy was safe in his arms.

"Give him to me and we'll talk."

"I'm not stupid and I know who you are." He met John's eyes. "Not your name maybe, but your type. You've been after my family for generations."

Bobby took half a step to his left.

Dale brought the scalpel closer to Sam's throat. "Don't move, any of you."

"Who am I, then?" John's eyes were only on Sam.

"A hunter. Out to destroy whatever it is you don't understand." He took a slow breath. "I've never killed anyone, I don't expect you to believe me. I don't want to hurt your boy, but I need him."

"Please." Dean lowered his gun. "He's my brother. I've always taken care of him, please."

For a moment Dale looked like he was going to let Sam go, but then his gaze fell on his daughter and it strengthened his resolve. "She needs him and I can't lose her. She's all I have left and I already lost her once."

"Lost her?" John asked, he was buying Sam time.

"She got sick and she died. But I brought her back, it's in my blood. LaFayettes have been bone polishers for centuries." He smiled at her unconscious form. "After I lost her mother and the baby in the fire, I couldn't lose anyone else. She's my life and I'm hers."

John's gun dropped a few inches. He was well aware that he and Dale had more in common than differences. John was doing the exact same thing, protecting his child at all costs.

The heart monitor beeped slower.

"There isn't much time." Dale looked John right in the eyes. "I'm sorry, really I am."

The gunshot was too loud in the room. Dale staggered back, blood already soaking his shoulder. He automatically tightened his grip on Sam and they fell to the floor together. John looked over and saw Bobby, gun still pointed at Dale, the end smoking. Dean started forward to Sam, but John held him back.

John took off his shirt, leaving just his undershirt on and wrapped it around Sam, the boy still unconscious and warm with fever. There was a cut on his arm from where the scalpel slipped, but it wasn't anything to worry about. John picked up his boy and held him close.

"Sedative, so he wouldn't feel anything." Dale gasped on the floor, his hand covered in blood as he tried to stop the flow. "Cherish them. Never know when you won't have them any more."

Bobby with his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"My great grandfather was the first in our family, took the heart of a dead soldier to save his brother. A little voodoo, some words and you get life." His words were punctuated by painful gasps. "I was just trying to save her. The hearts from the morgue didn't last long enough. Sam has so much life and she chose him. Didn't mean to, but she did and started to pull strenght from him. The nature of it, she wouldn't hurt anything if she could help it."

Dale didn't have long, Bobby was a good shot. John wanted to be repulsed, angered, shocked, but he understood Dale too well. He was intimate with the desire to save your child from everything, to protect what you gave life to with your own life, to do anything beyond reason to keep that child alive. John also knew too well the forever and deep pain of losing a wife to fire and only having her children left to remember her by.

"Hold her?" Blood ran down his chin.

John nodded. He looked at Bobby as he turned. Bobby stepped forward and took Sam as he was handed over. The boy was balanced on the edge of the table and Bobby's arms. John went over to Chloe and turned off the heart monitor. Her skin was cool and pale. Her heart beat sluggishly under John's fingers as he wrapped the sheet around her and picked her up. Her borrowed heart was counting the last beats. She was too light, too fragile. She was a beautiful little girl.

Dale smiled as John placed Chloe in his arms. He held his daughter close and breathed in the scent of her hair. He looked up and met John's eyes. John picked up Sam and held him.

John left the room, Bobby and Dean followed silently. There weren't words for what had happened and what could have happened had they been a few minutes later.

The ride back to Bobby's was silent. John sat with Sam in his arms and Dean held one of Sam's hands. Back at the house, John sat down on the couch with his son on his lap. Dean was automatically at Sam's side.

"He's okay?" Dean whispered.

John nodded.

Bobby sunk into a chair. "Christ." He ran his hand through his hair. "I never thought, John….I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, Bobby." John looked at Sam. "I would have done the same thing."

For a moment Bobby wasn't sure whether John meant letting Sam be Chloe's friend or doing what Dale did to save a child. It was too damn early in the morning and there wasn't nearly enough sleep to figure out all that had happened.

"I'm heading up to bed. You three going to get there at any point tonight?" Bobby leaned forward.

"Eventually." John nodded.

Bobby stood and left the room.

"Dad?" Dean looked up at John. "I wish I didn't feel bad for him."

John closed his eyes, a tired smile on his lips. "I know. Dean, not everything is black and white and good and evil. You know that. He was only doing what he needed to do, to save her."

"I still don't want to feel bad for him."

He put an arm around Dean's shoulders. "They're together and Sammy is safe and we're together. That's all you need to remember about tonight."

Sam shifted a little. "Daddy?" His voice was small, quiet.

"Sammy." John pressed his lips to Sam's forehead.

"Didn't want to go with him." He pulled himself closer in John's arms. "Had to. M'sorry" He choked back a sob.

John held Sam's head to his chest. "Everything's all right, now."

Sam's breathing evened out as he fell back asleep, exhausted. John stood with Sam in his arms and carried him up to bed. Dean was right behind, his hand gripped around Sam's.

John tucked his boys in the bed and Dean automatically put his arm around Sam. The younger boy turned and tucked himself against his brother's chest.

"I think his fever's down a little." Dean whispered. "Maybe."

John smiled and ran his hand over Dean's hair. "He'll be fine." He rested his hand on Sam's forehead. "Goodnight."

He got into bed and waited until he heard Dean fall asleep before he followed suit.

In the morning, when the room was bright with sunlight, both his boys were still in bed and Sam still in the protective arms of Dean. John thought briefly of going downstairs to see if Bobby was up, but he realized he didn't want to be anywhere else but with his boys. He got up and carefully sat at the end of Sam and Dean's bed.

Dean opened his eyes and looked over. "Dad?" He whispered.

John smiled and rested his hand on Dean's leg.

Dean made sure Sam was all right and then went back to sleep.

At that moment, there was nowhere else and nothing else John needed. He wanted to make sure he was paying attention to the moment because it was important. Dale had helped him realize that, and he was thankful for the message. Sometimes he wasn't always fully aware of how important his boys really were and he needed the reminder.

-ff-

note: Thank you all for the reviews, you are what kept me writing this. This wasn't quite the ending I had in mind, not this quick anyway, but this is where the story seemed to end. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.


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